Supply and Demand
by meeshiefeet
Summary: After leaving Grady Memorial, the group hits the road and heads north. Tara gives Carol something Daryl cannot... not yet. { Carol x Tara / Carol x Daryl }
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** Written for my sweet Liddym2113. I love you, bae.

* * *

He turned his back to the group and headed towards the woods again, shoulders hunched, head ducked low. Carol watched him disappear into the trees, into himself again. Her thoughts pivoted to the knife in her pack, nestled next to a children's book, both objects hidden beneath the clothes and supplies she carried. She made her decision. Next time he split off from the group, she was joining him, making him face it. Daryl hadn't let her pull away from them at the church, just as she hadn't let him back at the farm. Push and pull. It seemed to be their way, and apparently it was her turn to pull.

"Is he gonna be alright?" a voice asked softly behind her. Carol turned and saw the concern written in Tara's brown eyes, edged with the slightest bit of hope. Those eyes had seen terrible things, just like the rest of them, and yet they still reflected a surprising softness as the woman addressed her.

"Yeah. He's tough. He just needs some time and…" Carol didn't finish. She tried smiling at Tara to reassure her, but she knew it was half-hearted and weak and she didn't bother trying to maintain the façade as it faded. "I'll talk to him."

The others were setting up camp along the road… searching for water, studying maps, laying out the few remaining supplies they had to see if they'd missed any small bits of food shoved in stray pockets of their packs, though they already knew they hadn't. Carol took a step to join them, but felt a hand gently touch her arm.

"You need something?" she asked, ready to help the brunette.

"No, but I think you do," Tara answered, wrapping her up in a hug before Carol could object. She tensed in surprise, but quickly relaxed into Tara's embrace, taking comfort in the warmth of the gesture. Carol closed her eyes and held on, accepting this tiny bit of humanity, allowing it to seep into her until she realized there were curious eyes on them.

"Thank you," she whispered in Tara's ear before releasing her and walking toward the makeshift inventory area Carl and Michonne had started laying out on a spare blanket. She tossed her pack onto the ground and glanced back at Tara, offering her a genuine smile before turning to help the pair.

* * *

Tara sat on the van's rear bumper and tried to ignore the pain of her empty stomach. It was survival, pure and simple, her body trying to tell her to eat. Still, she couldn't help but feel grumpy every time a pang ran through her gut. She pulled her flannel shirt as tightly around her shoulders as she could. It wasn't even cold, but she shivered as the fire sputtered through the last of its branches.

"Need a distraction?" Carol asked as she settled in next to her. "I know I do. That or I'll start gnawing on my arm."

"Yeah. How 'bout a little girl talk? Take our minds off it?" Tara asked.

Carol nodded enthusiastically. "So…"

"So…"

They sat in silence, both trying to rack their brains for a topic of discussion that didn't involve food, until finally Tara heard Carol snort. She turned and watched as Carol tried to hold in the laughter and felt herself starting to crack up as well. Their eyes met and it was all over.

"Shhh!" Abraham hissed at them from his position on watch. They nodded an apology as they reined themselves in, fighting off the last of the giggles and then immediately falling back into fits every time they made eye contact. There wasn't even anything funny to laugh about, but Tara felt lighter in her company. She'd only just started getting to know Carol, and she knew the woman had been through some terrible traumas, but she felt a connection between them that was different than with most of the others. A shared sense of humor. A genuine willingness to sacrifice for the good of the group. As though she were clairvoyant, Carol put her hand on Tara's, giving it a slight squeeze.

"Maybe we should hunker down and try to sleep before we get ourselves in trouble," Carol suggested, gesturing at how Rick was settling Judith and Carl into the van while others made camp along the trees.

"Good plan. Knowing Abe, we'll be dropping and giving him 20 as punishment here in a minute."

Tara grabbed her pack, resting her head on it once she'd found a decent spot to rest on the thin strip of grassy weeds between the road and trees. She stole sideways glances as the other woman did the same, Carol eventually settling one arm over her eyes as she tried to get comfortable. Tara's eyes seemed to have a mind of their own, travelling over the silver hair, the delicate cheekbones, and then down further, watching the gentle movement of her breasts as she breathed. She felt her own breath come slightly faster at the sight, then willed herself to look away. Carol was off-limits, whether she and Daryl ever acknowledged it or not. It was a bad idea, looking at her that way, remembering how it felt to hold her close earlier. It was an even worse idea to sneak another peek.

Her blue eyes were brilliant, even in the low light from the embers. Tara gasped as she realized they were looking straight into hers, Carol having shifted to her side, facing her.

"Are you okay?" Carol asked, her brow creasing slightly at the reaction.

"Yeah," Tara breathed. "Yeah, I just… You startled me. I thought you were asleep."

"Not yet," Carol smiled. She reached out and took Tara's hand for the second time that night. "I'm sorry I startled you."

"No! Don't be sorry. I'm… I uh, I was… thinking… and then you…" Tara searched for an explanation, one that didn't involve admitting what she'd just been envisioning, but she was too flustered to come up with anything reasonable to say. She quit while she was behind.

A look of puzzled amusement crossed Carol's face before she shook her head, letting it go. "I was thinking, too," she said, "about earlier… that hug."

Her silvered head turned slightly, looking toward Daryl as he lay at the edge of the group, his back to everyone. "I didn't realize how much I needed it, but you did. Thank you… again."

She felt a twinge in her chest when Carol's eyes met hers again, no longer shining brilliantly in the low light, dulled instead with the heaviness of the last few weeks. "Any time," Tara replied.

Carol slipped her hand from Tara's and cupped her jaw lightly, tracing her thumb over her cheek. She'd never seen those blue eyes look anything but determined before, but suddenly they seemed lost, filled with doubt and questions she knew would likely never be answered. Tara nodded, extending her arms and welcoming Carol as she nestled in against her chest. She ran one hand through short silver hair while the other held Carol's slight frame tightly against her own. She felt Carol's fingers graze along her side to her hip, anchoring there as she sighed under Tara's soothing strokes through her hair. Her body twitched as it released the tension, and Tara lightly kissed her forehead, her temple. Her lips ached for more, but she pushed down the urge, cursing herself for her selfishness.

"Tara?" Carol lifted her head, hovering just inches above her, staring down at her and making her heart rate spike.

"Yeah?"

"I'm not… I…" Carol struggled for words, but her hand tightened against Tara's hip as her eyes drifted to the brunette's mouth and slowly back up again.

"I know," Tara said. "You're in love with him."

Carol's breath caught in her throat. "Yes."

"It's okay," Tara whispered, reaching up and gently drawing Carol to her. Their lips met softly, the kiss tender but too short-lived as Carol pulled away. Tara watched her struggle, glancing around, pausing as her eyes landed on Daryl, then meeting her own again.

"Carol," she said. "It really is okay. Whatever you need, I'm here."

"I'm sorry," Carol whispered, resting her head on Tara's chest again.

"Nothing to be sorry for," Tara said, caressing Carol cheek. She held onto her tighter, trying to reassure her that everything was fine between them. And though she craved tasting her lips again, she contented herself with the warmth they shared, bodies held against each other, breathing in sync. Carol wasn't hers, but then again, she wasn't Carol's, either. She looked up at the stars, her own heart growing heavy, and said a silent goodnight to Alisha, and Lilly, Meghan, her dad. She leaned and kissed Carol's forehead again, then settled herself in and let sleep take her.

* * *

_"You're in love with him."_

_"Yes."_

Daryl's chest tightened, his throat burned from the bile his stomach was churning up at the words. He'd been numb for weeks, ever since they walked out of Grady. He almost couldn't remember before that, but the images filtered slowly into focus. He'd tried to reach her. To pull her back to him. Then it all went to hell and he didn't have the strength to leave his own head.

And now this. It wasn't like he hadn't known, but to hear it from her own mouth, it was…

_"Whatever you need, I'm here."_

He wanted to be there for her, too. He'd always found a way to be, since the night the farm was overrun, at least. But now. Now he could barely keep himself going, let alone help her through whatever had happened with those girls. He kept his back to them, pretending to sleep, but he'd heard everything, filled in the blanks of what he couldn't see. She needed him, and when he couldn't be there for her, she found someone who could. He wanted to be angry. He wanted to scream, to pace, to punch something, but his body remained still and silent.

The two women had stopped talking a while ago, stopped everything they'd been doing, and he knew they must be asleep. He took a chance and rolled over, barely able to make them out in the starlight. They were tangled together. Peaceful. Beautiful as they lay wrapped up in each other's arms.

He stared at them for a few seconds more, then turned his back on them again. He wanted to be the one to give her that, but he couldn't. And maybe he was glad Tara could. He wasn't entirely sure, but he knew that besides keeping them all alive, seeing her at peace was all that really mattered to him now.


	2. Chapter 2

The house was quiet. Most of the group had work assignments today, but it was her scheduled day off, a seemingly antiquated concept she was having difficulty wrapping her brain around. Carol was restless, not quite sure what to do with herself. They'd been here a few days now, and though she didn't think these people meant them harm, she couldn't trust this situation. Nothing good ever lasted in this world. Nothing but the family who walked beside her through the front gate. But they were all out learning the ropes of their new roles within the community, and she was left to sit and dwell. And worry.

She read through the spines of the books on the shelf in her modest bedroom, hoping something interesting would catch her eye. She hadn't read a book since they'd left Georgia. Though a long-forgotten yearning for escape tugged deep inside her, nothing jumped out at her, despite the variety of genres and a sprinkling of a few classic titles. She couldn't imagine losing herself in the pages of a book these days. Too many other thoughts clouded her mind.

Maybe she could clean. Or start thinking about dinner. The group was invited to eat with some of the established members of the community, but so far they had chosen to make their own meals in the two houses they now occupied in the Safe Zone. She had just headed toward her bedroom door when she heard footsteps coming up the stairs.

"Sonofabitch!" Tara screamed as she rounded the corner of the small hallway, stumbling backwards toward the top of the staircase. Carol reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her forward before she fell.

"Are you okay?" Carol asked, panic finally welling up in her chest after the fact.

"Yeah, I just… I didn't think anyone was here and when I saw you… " Tara panted.

Carol led her to her room, sitting next to her on the bed while Tara caught her breath and gathered her wits about her again.

"Shit, Carol. I forgot it was your day off. Thanks for the save," Tara said, offering her fist for a grateful bump.

"Any time. Whatever you need, I'm here," Carol replied, the phrasing echoing through her head with an unexpected familiarity. It hit her a split-second later. Those words were the same ones Tara had said to her as they lay next to each other a few short nights ago. The same response to her own gratitude for extending a helping hand. She looked up, the startled one now, but Tara's sweet smile put her back at ease.

"Do you want to talk about the other night?" Tara asked.

"I didn't… no."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm not sure of anything these days," Carol admitted.

"Me either," Tara said.

Carol tilted her head, eyes narrowing in confusion. "Why are you here? I thought you were on greenhouse duty today."

Tara blushed. "Ummm, apparently it's not my strong suit. I singlehandedly managed to kill the entire supply of tomato seedlings today. Something about how trimming off all the leaves is a bad thing because they can't make food or whatever. I don't know."

"Oh, Tara!" Carol exclaimed, trying not to laugh, but failing.

"Yeah, so they sent me home and told me there'd be a new assignment for me tomorrow."

"Well, I'm happy for the company. I was getting a little punchy sitting here all by myself," Carol told her. "Honestly, everything around here makes me edgy."

"You don't trust them?" Tara asked.

"It's not that. It's just… nothing is safe. They live here behind these walls and think they're protected, but you know as well as I do. You're never safe. Not really. Walls can only do so much when someone wants what you have."

"I know."

Tara stared at the floor, and Carol realized how much guilt she still carried on her shoulders for being at the prison when it fell.

"That wasn't your fault," she said softly, touching Tara's shoulder to emphasize her point.

"I know that, too. It's still hard, though."

Carol moved her hand from Tara's shoulder to her chin, tilting it toward her to make eye contact.

"We all have things we want to go back and change, but we can't. We have to find a way to live with it. All of us do. We have to find…" Carol's voice caught in her throat. She'd been fighting everyday to follow this advice, some of those days turning out better than others, but all of them bad.

She dropped Tara's chin and focused on her own lap, shutting out the memories that were threatening to replay in her head.

"What happened, Carol?" Tara asked quietly.

Carol looked up at her and shook her head. It wasn't a matter of not wanting to talk about it. She just couldn't. If she even considered it, she was certain she would shatter and never be able to put the pieces back together again. _All the king's horses and all the king's men._ She needed to stay strong, stay tough so that whenever this respite they'd found fell apart, she could protect them. They needed her. He needed her.

"Okay. You don't have to," Tara said, resting her hand on Carol's. They sat in silence for a few moments before Tara spoke again.

"The other night… was that trying to find a way to live with it?" she asked.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to… use you like that," Carol answered.

"You weren't using me."

"But you know how I feel. It wasn't right to ask you for that when-"

"I said it was okay because it was," Tara interrupted. "I understand. And maybe I needed to find way to live with everything, too."

Tara's gentle brown eyes held steady in her conviction, and Carol recognized the truth of what she'd said. That neither of them was faultless, nor to blame. That they had both found something to hold on to in that moment while the world lay in ruins all around them. Something that wasn't love, but a connection built on need, and understanding, and trust.

Tara leaned toward her, taking her face in her hands, and Carol gave in to that connection, meeting her halfway, seeking her mouth. Carol kissed her lightly, then pulled her deeper as the need seized her, clawing its way up through her chest. Her lips parted and she felt Tara's warm tongue against hers, felt the brunette's hands slide behind her neck and down her back, drawing her closer.

A rush of heat flooded through her, followed immediately by panic as Tara's curves pressed against her own. Carol tensed against the sudden heightening of senses and Tara pulled back, searching her face for some sort of hint to the apparent change of heart.

"Was that too much?" Tara asked, the fear that she'd overstepped a boundary evident on her face. "Carol, I'm sorry. I thought you wanted… I… I should go."

"Don't go. Please," Carol replied, quickly realizing the impression she must have given when she let her nerves get the best of her. She ran her fingers through Tara's hair, trying to find the right words to explain. "I do want… this. It's just… I've never…"

Carol could feel the blush warming her cheeks. She took a breath, steeling herself against the embarrassment she felt, and looked Tara squarely in the eye.

"I don't know what to do," she admitted nervously. "Don't go."

Tara's expression relaxed, the same sweet smile from earlier returning. "You don't have to do anything. I meant it before, when I said whatever you need. It's cool to just sit and talk."

Carol reached for her, holding Tara's jaw and tracing her bottom lip with her thumb. Talking about her problems was the last thing she was willing to do, but being close to someone… that was a different story. Tara's hug had released something in her, the desire for human contact, for physical touch, the yearning growing steadily since. She'd been holding everyone at a distance since the group had reunited, Daryl's unabashed, near-tackling embrace and Rick's subsequent display of gratitude shocking her system and leaving her afraid to let anyone too close afterward. The fear that proximity could compromise her mask, might allow someone to see her emotional scars, had pushed her deeper into herself and further from the others. Yet Tara's lack of demand had somehow disarmed her and she felt her blush dissipate as she leaned forward, letting her lips graze Tara's briefly before pulling the other woman against her once again.

"Or, you know, we could not talk," Tara whispered, wrapping her arms around Carol. Tara tilted her head, and Carol felt that rush of heat building again as Tara trailed long, slow kisses along her neck. She couldn't remember the last time someone had taken the time or care to please her. Maybe it had never happened, but Tara seemed to genuinely enjoy the response she elicited as Carol's breath quickened and fingers gripped her tighter. Carol still didn't know what to do, but she no longer cared, tossing aside her hesitation and letting her take the lead.

Their mouths met again, Tara's tongue teasing at hers, their lips tugging lightly each time they parted. Carol's hands seemed to move of their own accord, gliding quickly down Tara's back, gathering her shirt into a fist as the spark between them quickly erupted into more. Tara reached down, sliding her shirt up over her head before grasping Carol's and doing the same. Her brown eyes met Carol's blue ones, silently checking in that all was okay. Carol nodded and Tara started again, running her tongue along Carol's throat before leaving another trail of kisses down her chest. She cradled Carol as she did, deftly unhooking her bra before easing her onto her back.

Carol slipped her loosened bra off while Tara removed her own. The nervousness fluttered up again when Carol's eyes travelled over the other woman's body. She was confident, beautiful, and an unfamiliar feeling swept through Carol, burning through her and making her ache for Tara's soft skin against hers. She didn't have to wait. Tara leaned down, pressing against her, kissing her so passionately Carol lost her breath. It came rushing back in a gasp as Tara slid down her body, slipping her tongue across Carol's hardened nipple before taking it into her mouth. Tara's hand found her other breast and teased her, sending shock waves through her in all directions, unravelling every tightly wound coil of caution she'd hidden behind since she'd found them all in the woods outside Terminus.

Sounds Carol hadn't heard in years were escaping her as Tara maneuvered her hands and mouth, slowly, delicately working her way down Carol's abdomen. Her fingers toyed at the waistband of Carol's pants, skimming along the edge until she found the button and popped it open. Her mouth never left Carol's skin as she slid the zipper down. Carol floundered, trying to shimmy out of her pants gracefully, but setting off giggles in both of them when she failed.

"Here, let me help," Tara said. "Just lift your hips." Carol did as she asked, watching as Tara bit her lip and pulled both her pants and underwear off, taking in the sight of her while she tossed the no longer wanted clothing aside. Carol watched her, saw the lust in her eyes as her hands trailed back up her thighs. Tara glanced up at her, cheeks burning red.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to stare. It's… been a while," Tara stammered. "I don't want to be creepy."

Carol smiled warmly and reached for her, pulling her down into a soft kiss.

"You're not," Carol reassured her. "And besides, you aren't the only one staring."

Carol's eyes drifted to Tara's full breasts and the brunette laughed. It felt so good, laughing, bonding, _wanting_. The want expanded and Carol's smile faded as she pushed Tara back slightly so she could sit up. Carol kissed the side of her neck, felt the flushed skin warm her lips. A low hum vibrated in Tara's throat and Carol's daring grew. Her fingers traced Tara's arm from the wrist to the shoulder, then explored her collarbone, the subtle rise of the top of her breasts. Carol dipped her head, kissing her way downward, feeling Tara's hand gently guide her until she took her nipple in her mouth, sucking and running her tongue over it. Tara moaned, pulled Carol tighter against her body, and Carol felt herself growing slick with the headiness of causing such a reaction.

Tara broke away, panting as she stared at her, and suddenly there were no more nerves or fear skirting at her edges.

"Teach me," Carol whispered. Tara's eyes grew wide, her pupils blown in a lust-filled haze, but she nodded.

"Sit back here, against the headboard," Tara said, moving the pillows to cushion them. Carol shifted while Tara shed the rest of her clothes.

"You've… uh. You've… touched yourself before. Yes?" Tara asked. Carol's mind raced back to the quarry, when she'd admitted that she, like the other women, missed her vibrator. A hint of sadness crept over her, but then she looked at Tara. Tender, endearing, and she took comfort in the here and now. In the connection they were forging in this room, behind these walls.

"Yes," she answered.

"Okay, good," Tara smiled. She gently parted Carol's legs, never taking her eyes off Carol's. "Don't think. Just touch me like that. Like I'm you." She turned around and sat in front of Carol, drawing their arms together around her waist and leaning back against her. Carol inhaled sharply as Tara's body relaxed against her chest, setting off another wave of desire and prompting her to run her hands across Tara's abdomen.

"Like this?" Carol asked as she glided along Tara's skin, goosebumps rising beneath her fingers.

"Mmm, yes. Like that. Exactly like-" Tara lost her words as Carol's fingers slid between her legs, as her mouth brushed against her neck. "God, yes."

Tara's spread herself open, hooking her legs over Carol's, arching into her. Carol took her earlier advice, closing her eyes as she stopped thinking, and moved her hands over the other woman as though she were satisfying her own needs. She kissed Tara below her ear, along the nape of her neck, and slid one hand to her breast while the other explored the warm, wet folds between her legs. Tara moaned and reached back, anchoring one hand on Carol's hip, the other lightly tugging her silver hair. Their bodies moved together, gently rocking and swaying. Carol gasped as Tara pushed further back against her, the sweet friction urging her onward. She found Tara's clit, ghosting over it slowly, then building speed as she felt her begin to tremble.

She slipped her other hand from Tara's breast, finding her entrance and easing her finger inside. Tara's hand grasped hers roughly, guiding a second finger into her and silently encouraging her to move faster. Carol complied, sliding her fingers in and out, focusing on the soft spot that always made her shudder when she chose her hands over her vibrator. She teased at Tara's clit again, moving with her as the woman writhed in front of her, feeling herself growing more aroused with each motion. Suddenly Tara stopped, arching her back, her walls clenched against Carol's fingers. Her breath came in fits and starts, and Carol worked her through her orgasm, not stopping until Tara tugged at her hands, unable to bear any more stimulation. Carol wrapped her arms around her, holding her in a gentle embrace until she caught her breath again.

"Are you sure you haven't done this before?" Tara asked, punctuating the question with a small laugh.

"It was okay then?" Carol asked.

"Okay?" Tara leaned forward, pivoting around to look at her. "It was so beyond okay." She licked her lips and tilted Carol's face to hers. Tara's lips met hers and the kiss stirred up that longing in Carol again. The one she'd nearly forgotten as she felt Tara climax against her fingers. Carol pulled at her, deepening the kiss, and Tara responded, letting her hands trail away from Carol's neck, taking in the curves of her breasts, the flat of her abdomen. She broke off the kiss and smiled mischievously.

"Your turn," she said. "Scooch down." Carol shifted, lying on her back and allowing Tara to take control again. She shuddered as she felt Tara's hands on her, stroking over her breasts, up her thighs. Her eyes fluttered closed and she felt Tara kiss her again, Carol breathed her in deeply, letting go and accepting how good it felt. She wound her fingers into Tara's hair, wanting more of that softness. That warmth. But Tara pulled away from her, her mouth seeking out a path along Carol's body. She felt her move down, licking and nibbling, taunting her with small bits of pleasure in one spot before moving on to indulge in the next.

Tara eased Carol's legs apart as she kissed the top of one thigh, then the other, stealing Carol's breath as she slowly made her way between them. She'd barely found the ability to breathe again when she felt Tara's tongue run the length of her slit, then retreat and do it again. Tara found her clit, her tongue softly grazing it, sending a sharp pang of delight through her. Tara's mouth closed over her, gently sucking as she ran her tongue over her clit in short strokes, her fingers pressing into Carol just as she had experienced earlier.

It was unlike anything Carol had ever felt before, the sensations battling and then merging as Tara's soft tongue and insistent fingers moved all around her, inside her. Her hand moved to Tara's hair, gripping her lightly as she struggled to make heads or tails of what the woman was doing, until she felt so much she no longer cared. She was close, so close, and she moved with her, savoring each torturous flick of Tara's tongue, bucking her hips so Tara's fingers drove deeper into her. Her muscles constricted without warning, the pulsing tension careening through her and she grasped the comforter in her fist. The taut pleasure, the release… it overwhelmed her. Spread through her entire body, her limbs, her chest. Her throat tightened and her eyes stung as she began to come down from the high, the barrier between physical and emotional compromised. Carol did everything she could to try to stop it, but she choked against the flood of tears squeezing from between her tightly shut eyelids.

"Carol?" Tara asked quietly, shifting her body to tuck in next to Carol, taking her into her arms the way she had that night on the road. "It'll be okay. Whatever it is, it'll be okay."

"I'm sorry," Carol said, trying desperately to pull herself together. Her body was still twinging with aftershocks, a reminder that they'd shared something good. Something intense, but positive. She wasn't even sure why she was crying. "You must think I'm crazy."

"No." Tara kissed her forehead. "I think you're human."

Tara tilted Carol's chin up to look at her. "I know you don't want to talk about it, so I'm not asking, but you can always cry on my shoulder... or my boobs, in this case." A small smile tugged at the corners of Tara's lips, and Carol laughed as more tears streamed down her face. She wiped them away and settled her head against Tara's chest again.

"Thanks for that," she said. "I swear I won't make it a habit."

"Well, you could," Tara replied tentatively, "make it a habit. If you want."

Carol lifted her head again, saw Tara nervously bite at her lip. "You mean… this? The part before the crying?"

"I mean… I… you could cry, too, I just thought maybe… if you want…."

Carol's smile grew as she watched Tara struggle for words, finally deciding to let her off the hook when she started blushing furiously.

"That might be nice," Carol said. Tara blinked at her, as though trying to be sure she'd heard correctly.

"Yeah?" she asked hopefully.

"Yeah," Carol replied, lowering her head again. "I think it would. Next time I won't lose it on you afterward."

Tara wrapped her arms more snugly around Carol. "You do what you did to me earlier, and I'll probably lose it on you." Her chest vibrated with her laugh, light and lovely, and Carol closed her eyes, feeling some of the weight she'd been carrying lift off her. Understanding. And trust. And connection. She didn't know she craved it so strongly, how much it could buoy her, until she had it. Her mind drifted, the image of his face flitting into it, stubbornly refusing to be pushed away until she felt Tara's lips graze her temple. She tethered herself in the moment, in Tara's arms, against her body. The feeling wouldn't last, but for now, she was content. After everything she'd done, it didn't seem possible, or deserved, but somehow Tara had made that happen.

"Thank you," Carol whispered so low she wasn't sure Tara would even hear.

"For what? Seducing you?" Tara asked. Carol could hear the smile in her voice.

"For being here. For making this all a little easier."

"Hmm. You're doing the same for me, you know," Tara replied, running her hand up and down Carol's back.

"I'm glad."

"Me, too."

"Good."

"Good."

Carol snorted at the exchanged. "Alright then. So we're glad. And we're good. I guess that's settled," she said.

"Yep," Tara agreed. "Now how about we get a little sleep so maybe we can revisit this new habit before the others get home later?"

Carol trailed her fingers along Tara's stomach. "Or we could just revisit it now…."

Tara hummed quietly as Carol's finger continued on their path.

"I admire your enthusiasm," Tara murmured as she tilted Carol's face upward toward her own, tracing her cheek and jaw, her lips. Carol took her hand, kissing her fingertips, then turning it over, lips lightly brushing her knuckles. She brought Tara's hand to her cheek and leaned against it, closing her eyes and reveling in the touch, not letting go until she felt soft lips meet her own.

They tangled slowly, easily, discovering each other all over again as the sun threaded its way across the sky. By early afternoon, they drifted in and out sleep, not rousing until they heard the front door open and close and footsteps downstairs.

Tara gave Carol a quick peck and grabbed her clothes, sneaking off to her own room to dress, and Carol threw hers on in haste. She ducked into the bathroom, splashing water on her face, noticing a softness to her expression that had been missing for longer than she could remember. She stared for a long moment before the sound of more footsteps snapped her back to reality. Dinner. She needed to make dinner. Carol stood up straight and rigid, once again hiding behind the mask of the fake persona she was cultivating here in Alexandria, and headed downstairs to preheat the oven.


	3. Chapter 3

That kid Sam was smart. Underfoot more than was comfortable, but smart. Carol barely looked at the boy, but he'd still figured out where to run when things got rough. Recognized the protector in her. Daryl watched as Sam snuck between the houses across the street, noiselessly ducking behind a shrub as two women walked by. They remained blissfully unaware of Sam's movements, completely oblivious as he darted off the opposite direction after they passed. Smart _and_ stealthy. Daryl made a mental note to talk to Aaron about him. Kid might make a good recruiter someday.

He sat on the porch, half-heartedly trying to repair a walkie-talkie set Rosita had found in the basement, while watching the people of Alexandria come and go. Most weren't nearly as cheerful as they used to be. Some of them looked downright grim. He decided maybe those ones weren't so bad. They were learning faster than the others.

His attention was diverted by a guy he'd seen hovering around Deanna's house a few times. The man stopped and propped one foot on the bottom step of the porch, nodding a greeting. Daryl did his best not to scowl back at him, heeding Carol's words about trying to fit in.

"Abe here?" the man asked. "I was hoping to run some fortification plans by him. See if he thinks they're feasible with the materials we have on hand."

"Nah. Might be helpin' that woman… uh, Olivia, I think. Came by earlier askin' about new locks. Missin' chocolate or somethin'."

"Chocolate? Probably a kid. I have to chase 'em out of there almost everyday," he said. "I'll give her a hand if Abe's not there. Thanks."

Daryl nodded and watched the man walk away. One of the grim ones. Focusing on how to keep everyone safe. Maybe he should learn that guy's name.

"Hand it over."

Daryl turned at the sound of Carol's voice carrying through the open window behind him.

"You owe me two from your half this time. I saw you sneak a couple while they were cooling the other day."

Daryl stepped silently across the porch and slipped inside the door, peering around the corner toward the kitchen. He was impressed. Hadn't even noticed the kid come back, but there stood Sam, sulking as he handed Carol a candy bar. So, the chocolate thief really was a kid. One that was definitely going to be asset to this group.

"Come back in an hour. Bring your backpack. And stop pouting. Fair is fair," Carol said as she shuffled the kid out the back door. She tossed the chocolate bar on the counter and pulled a whisk from a drawer. Daryl was about to clear his throat to announce himself when suddenly she stopped, whisk in hand, in the middle of the kitchen. He could only glimpse part her face, but it was all he needed to see. The tiny grin she'd just worn had vanished. She clamped her eyes tightly shut. An almost imperceptible shudder rippled through her slight frame as her breath came quick and shallow.

All those late nights he heard doors opening and closing. Footsteps and giggles. Soft moans, just barely audible through the wall as he lay awake in the next room. He thought it was helping, having that release with Tara. In some ways it was. She seemed to smile faster. She was finally capable of relaxing for those few minutes between dinner and their evening meetings with Rick, Michonne, and Glenn, letting the others gather up dishes and clean the kitchen. By all appearances, she was doing better, but he hadn't seen her come close to breaking like this in a long time. Not since….

"No."

He startled when she suddenly spoke, thinking she had seen him, but she still faced away from where he stood.

"No," she repeated, softer this time. She took a forceful breath, then strode with purpose toward the far counter. The contents of the bowl there took the brunt of her emotion as the whisk clanged noisily against the sides of it. Whatever was just below the surface, whatever happened after the prison fell… it was fighting to get out, and she was fighting just as hard to keep it buried.

He fought the impulse to go to her, touch her shoulder, something… wanting to comfort her. With half the house due to return from their work assignments any minute, this was not the moment. Anything he tried when a potential audience could appear might make it worse, make her withdraw into herself even further. But soon. Tonight. Tonight he'd finally do what he hadn't been capable of doing after they left Atlanta.

No more watching her teeter on the edge. He was going to push her off. And catch her when she fell.

* * *

Tara opened her eyes, looking up as Carol sighed in response to her mouth. The woman was arched above her, hypnotizing in her graceful movements, with her sheer acceptance and willingness to share herself, as though the act of straddling Tara was something she'd been practicing for years.

Six nights they'd been doing this. Well, five, if you didn't count the night roving herds forced Tara, newly minted as a runner after her greenhouse fiasco, to hide out with the others in a tumbledown diner until sunrise. Almost a full week of bonding, both physically and with the conversations in between. Of giving each other an outlet to deal with the ugliness of the world, and the things they'd had to do to survive it. She marveled at how far Carol had come in such a short time. Eager to learn, to give and take in equal measure. Unafraid to try new things.

The newfound confidence in the bed they were secretly sharing wasn't entirely unexpected. Carol was well in command of the other aspects of her life. The façade of harmless homemaker cast aside when none of the Alexandrians were in sight. She was a natural leader, which made her an excellent judge of when to guide people and when to let them find their own way, including herself. And that ability had proven to be instrumental in Tara's now-daily state of delirious exhaustion.

The only thing that surprised Tara anymore was Carol's relationship with Daryl. They clearly cared for each other deeply. Carol had admitted she loved the man. And it was plain to everyone in their group that he felt the same way about her. Yet something held them back, keeping them from acting on their feelings. It certainly wasn't a lack of confidence, Tara thought as she slipped her tongue deep inside Carol, watching as the woman's eyes met hers, fierce and intent.

"I wanna taste you, too," Carol said, the sentence sounding almost like a command instead of a request. Tara released Carol's hips, allowing her to slide down the bed. Carol paused to kiss her, her tongue slowly gliding across Tara's lips. A shiver ran through her as Carol moved to her neck, her fingers trailing downward, tracing a path between her breasts before gliding lightly across her abdomen. Tara stifled a moan when Carol's mouth followed the path her fingers had taken, detouring to tease one nipple, then the other, before she pulled away.

Carol turned around and maneuvered herself into what was quickly becoming one of Tara's favorite positions with this woman. She'd been concerned at first, an off-hand comment from Glenn about Carol's asshole of a late husband echoing in her ears and making her extra careful. She avoided anything that might make Carol feel trapped or not in control of what was happening. Giving her all the freedom she needed. And that freedom, that sense of security, had rapidly led them here.

Tara thanked whatever gods might be looking down on them as she felt Carol's tongue sweep over her clit, as she opened herself to the woman's fingers slowly slipping inside. Tara's body seemed to pulse against the sweet friction, growing steadily in intensity until she turned off her mind completely and let her body take over. She breathed Carol in, no longer showing restraint as she began to indulge in her body once more. She wasn't certain what was getting her closer to the edge, the soft, wet heat, the taste of the woman above her… or the way that woman's mouth and fingers moved against her. Carol tightened, letting out a strangled sob that vibrated between Tara's legs. She shook as she climaxed, but never stopped what she was doing, and before Tara could begin to register the other woman's orgasm, she succumbed to her own.

Tara fought to catch her breath, to steady the shaking in her legs, as Carol shifted and collapsed beside her.

"I _almost_ wish you weren't so good at this," Carol said, taking Tara's hand in her own. "I thought I was going to scream out loud there for a second."

Tara laughed. "Okay. Next time I won't bring my A-game. Too risky."

"Don't you dare." Carol leaned over, caressing Tara's cheek and drawing her into a kiss that started off playfully, then deepened into a clinging, almost wistful, caress. Their lips parted and Tara took a beat before opening her eyes, not wanting to attach more meaning to the kiss than she could afford. Six nights.

_No… only five_, Tara thought.

She wondered how many more nights she would get. It wasn't going to last, that was the reality of it, but these stolen hours had become a sort of anchor for her. A comfortable routine. The only routine she'd fallen into here that made even the slightest bit of sense. And damn, she was having _fun_. Fun wasn't something she'd anticipated when she found herself in Carol's bed, holding the crying woman in her arms. Yet the dynamic between them often shifted. Serious and full of desperate need in one encounter. Lighthearted and kittenish in the next. Tonight seemed to fall somewhere in the middle.

"Don't worry. You'll have my A-game for as long as you let this happen," Tara said.

Carol brushed the hair off Tara's forehead, damp with sweat, and kissed the now exposed skin there. "I don't want to stop anytime soon."

"Me either, but it'll happen."

"Yeah," Carol replied.

The two of them lay in silence for a minute, Tara's mind buzzing with words she felt she should say. Clever ones. Comforting, yet not overly serious. Other words kept intruding. The selfish ones. She finally chose a few, but before she could get them out, Carol spoke.

"I don't want to take advantage, Tara. Or see either one of us get hurt. Maybe we should stop this now, before we end up doing that. The last thing we need is more heartache."

Tara pulled her closer, tracing her temple down to her cheek. "I get why you'd say that, and I appreciate it. I do. I think about it sometimes."

"You do?"

"Yeah. But I know this is a distraction. An amazing, mind-blowing distraction," she laughed. Carol smiled back, but Tara felt her own smile fade as she broached the topic. "This is a good thing, in its way, but I know where your heart lies. Honestly, I don't know why you're in my bed instead of his, but as long as you want to be here, I want you here."

Carol leaned in and kissed her again, so tenderly Tara nearly let herself imagine there could be more between them than comfort and companionship.

"He's not ready. Maybe I'm not, either," Carol said. "You saw him on the road. He's better now, but…. Are you really okay with this?"

"I am," Tara said.

"Then that's settled," Carol replied. She looked toward the window and sighed. "The sun will be up soon."

"Yeah, you should go."

"I hate to leave, after talking about all that. I don't want to-"

"You're not taking advantage, Carol. I promise. Now go."

Tara pulled her close again, grazing her lips gently against Carol's before releasing her. She didn't like falling asleep alone, but it was how it needed to be, so she offered Carol another smile as she climbed out of bed and got dressed.

"Sweet dreams," Tara said quietly, knowing that neither of them had managed to have anything other than nightmares since who knows when.

"You, too," Carol replied, and slipped out the door.


	4. Chapter 4

Carol had slipped quietly out the door, creeping along the hallway, when she spotted the dim light coming from downstairs. Nobody was supposed to be awake, but she heard footsteps below her and changed direction, taking the stairs slowly so as not to make noise and disturb the others as they slept. She turned the corner and spotted the basement door wide open, light shining from below. She peered down the stairs to find him looking up at her.

"What are you doing up?" she asked. There were people assigned to watch. He didn't need to be pulling double-duty.

"Waitin' for you," he replied. "Figured you'd see the light when you snuck back to your room."

The look on his face said everything. He knew, and there was no use trying to deny it or explain it away. She should have known he would figure it all out. He always knew what was going on with her, especially when she didn't tell him. Daryl turned and sank to a bench pushed up against the cinderblock wall.

She closed the door behind her and made her way down the stairs, sitting beside him. "How long have you known?"

"Heard you two when we was on the road. Before they found us." He glanced at her and then went back to staring at his feet stretched out in front of him.

On the road… the only time she and Tara had done anything on the road was that first night. One kiss. Just one kiss… and the conversation that had led up to it. She turned to study him, to try to figure out his reaction to that conversation, but he kept looking straight ahead.

"You heard what we said?" she asked, unable to raise her voice above a whisper.

"Yeah."

She swallowed the lump growing in her throat. She'd demonstrated her love for him everyday, but knowing he'd heard her acknowledge it, somehow it became… real. Real and tangible and wedging itself into the little remaining space between them.

"This thing with Tara, it's…"

"It's what you needed," he finished for her, finally turning to meet her gaze. "With everything's that's happened, you needed someone. I was checked out. Couldn't help you then. But I can now."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"I mean it's time," he paused, taking a breath to fortify his words. "You and me… we ain't different. So lemme help you," he said, never taking his eyes off her.

Carol drew in a sharp breath, finally beginning to understand what he was saying. "I can't."

"You gotta," he said, putting his hand on top of hers.

She shook her head, try to pull her hand away, but he held it fast.

"Daryl, no. I can't go there."

"What you said on the road… it's true?" he asked.

Tears filled her eyes, and she fought them back, struggling to stay in control of herself.

He squeezed her hand. "Then tell me what happened."

"Please don't," she whispered, trying to mask the desperation in her voice. He pulled her hand into his lap, wrapping it in both of his, and waited.

She couldn't stop the tears now, rolling down her cheeks as the snapshots flashed through her mind. Her head felt like it was splitting open. Her stomach clenched harder with each image that blinked in front of her. Yellow hair. Yellow flowers. Yellow flash from a barrel. She could feel the gun in her hand, warm and heavy.

"You don't gotta carry this alone no more," he said, his eyes pleading with her. "_I know you._ You gotta tell me."

"You're the last person-" she started, stopping short when she saw the argument forming in his eyes. "Don't you understand? Nobody should have to carry this. Nobody. I don't want anybody else to. I don't want you to."

"Already am," he replied.

The words were dizzying. He knew? How could he possibly… the only one who knew… _Tyreese_. Tyreese must have told Sasha, and she must have… Carol's stomach lurched, nearly ridding itself of its contents. The person she most wanted to shield from this...

"Carol," he turned her chin toward him, halting her thoughts as she heard her name in his voice. "I don't know what happened, but whatever you carry, I carry. You ain't protectin' me by keepin' it locked up. Ain't nothin' worse than watchin' you die a little more every day."

The agony in his eyes reflected her own, and she saw the truth of it. How keeping this secret was slowly killing her. How she'd forced him to watch. She'd wanted to believe she could wall it off, keep it as far away from him as possible, but he still saw it. No matter how deeply she buried it, he always sensed the damage. Felt it right along with her. She hadn't managed to keep him safe from it at all, and now he was wrenching it free, the damage hurtling up and out of her before she could stop it.

The recoil was swift and sharp, knocking the wind from her lungs, making her collapse as it collided with her chest. He grabbed her before she slipped from the bench, hauling her up l against him when the memory flashed brightly all at once, blinding in its vividness now that he'd pried opened its dark hiding place deep inside her. Her wounds followed suit, forcing themselves open as the words bled from her, unable to be stanched.

"I should have seen it," she choked out. "I should have… I could have done something. Saved her. Saved them both, but I didn't see it."

"See what?" he asked, holding her as she struggled to speak, swallowing air in a desperate attempt to get enough oxygen through her sobs.

"She was sick. She was… she thought walkers were her friends. That they talked to her. Wanted to play."

"Who?"

"Lizzie." The name cracked in her throat, the first time she'd said it since she had told the girl she loved her. Since she told her to look away and fired the shot that ended the child's life.

"She killed her, Daryl." Carol rasped, her voice almost inaudible from the terrible recollection. She wheezed and pushed on, forcing herself to get it all out before it ripped her apart. "She wanted Mika to turn, to prove… sh-she killed her. She killed her own sister."

Carol pushed him away, staring at him, trying to convince herself as much as him that she had tried everything she could. "And Judith… Lizzie was holding that knife, ready to…. It wasn't safe. She wasn't safe. Tyreese and I, we tried. We tried to think of something. _Anything_."

The horror registered on his face and she stopped gasping. Stopped breathing altogether. Suffocating. She must be…. Her throat closed and a buzzing in her ears grew loud and painful. His mouth was moving, but she couldn't hear his voice. He knew now. Knew every drop of innocent blood on her hands. He was still looking at her, still speaking, but all she could hear was that buzz, her own blood rushing from her head as she felt the impact of her horrible act double with his knowing. He was shaking his head, saying something… unintelligible. She strained to hear him, to see the words form on his lips, but his mouth wasn't moving anymore. Only his hands, grasping her arms, cupping her face.

Stillness.

The shaking, the noise… it all ground to a halt when her eyes met his. Everything gone but the two of them. Silent tears rolled down her cheeks.

"I killed her," she confessed, guilt enveloping her, emanating from every part of her.

He fought his own emotions as he ran his thumb across her cheek, wiping some of the tears away.

"You didn't have a choice," he said.

She shook her head again. "But I should have known," she argued. "Maybe Mika-"

"You couldn't know," he said. "None of us did."

"I…." She had no words left, only the numbing emptiness of grief and regret.

"You couldn't save Lizzie. Or Mika," he said. "But you saved the baby. You said we don't get to save people no more, but you _did_. You saved us all, and you saved her."

He stared into her eyes for a moment and then pulled her against him again, holding her as tightly as he had when he'd seen her outside Terminus.

"You saved me," he whispered against her ear. His words held her tighter than his arms. Held her together and kept her from shattering, from fracturing into an irreparable pile of shards. _All the king's horses and all the king's men._ The verse repeated itself in her head. He'd succeeded where they had failed.

The exhaustion of her internal battle rolled over her, and she sank into his strength, letting him take on the weight of it just as he'd told her he would. Push and pull. The same as they always were, except nothing would be the same between them again.

* * *

He rocked her gently in silence, the last of her tears soaking into his shirt. When he felt her breathing returned to a normal cadence, he pulled away from her slightly, gently tilting her face upward. Red-rimmed blue eyes met his. He couldn't imagine the pain she'd endured by keeping this secret. Carrying this burden alone, and still giving him all she could. Giving everything to keep the whole group as safe as possible.

Daryl had never been sure of himself, but her… he was sure of her. He leaned in and kissed her forehead, echoing the times she'd comforted him that way. When his lips met her skin, her breath hitched, then calmed. She let him linger there, let his breath warm her temple until he built up the courage to kiss her again. He drew back and looked down at her, tracing her cheek with his fingers until she opened her eyes again.

"You need sleep," he said.

She nodded and attempted to stand, swaying slightly with the effort. He steadied her and scooped her up, expecting a protest, but she offered none. She tucked her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes. Complete trust. It was so foreign, and yet with her, it was how it had always been.

He took the stairs slowly to avoid jarring her as made his way up to the kitchen, then the second floor. Carol's door was cracked and he nudged it open with his foot before lowering her gently to the bed. He watched as she settled into its comfort, never opening her eyes, her body drifting into sleep. After a minute, he turned toward the door.

"Don't go."

Her eyes were open now, trained on him and unwavering.

"Please," she said. "Sleep here."

"Okay."

He closed the door and crossed to the far side of the bed, slipping in beside her, rolling onto his side to face her back. She reached behind her, her fingers glancing against his and he froze in spite of himself. All of their old patterns seemed to be repeating tonight. And just like always, she knew. Sensed it. She pulled away, contenting herself with him simply being next to her.

But he wasn't content with it. Not anymore. They'd been through too much now. He edged closer and draped his arm over her waist, pressing himself up against her, taking her hand in his. She sighed and relaxed into him, and he felt that last wall between them crumble, the rubble swept away with every breath they breathed in sync.


End file.
